A Lot To Learn
by the ramblin rose
Summary: Richonne. ZA/AU. It's Judith's first day of school and Rick isn't used to getting a little girl ready. Lucky for him, Michonne knows exactly how to handle things.
**AN: So I wanted to write something fluffy, and I wanted to try my hand at Richonne, so this was offered to me. It's my first try at Richonne, so I'm still figuring out how I like writing them as a couple. It's just a fluffy little one-shot about the first day of school for Judith.**

 **I own nothing from the Walking Dead.**

 **I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Michonne was pretty sure that the whole of Alexandria could hear Judith's protests even through the closed doors of the house. She had been waiting for them to pass, trying to finish her shower in peace, but they didn't seem to be letting up. By the time Michonne had wrapped herself in her robe and made it to Judith's room, the little girl was nearly in hysterics and nothing she was saying was even the slightest bit intelligible beyond the word "NO" that was spat throughout her rambling and sputtering speech.

"What is going on?" Michonne asked.

Rick looked like he was almost at the end of his rope. Frustration had turned his face red and it was clear that he wasn't going to get anywhere with this situation because he was just a few moments away from breaking into a tantrum that could compete with the one that the four year old was having.

Rick let out something of a low growl in response to Michonne's question.

"Your big girl speech didn't work," he said. "She doesn't want to go to school. She wants no part of it and I can't—I can't..."

"You can't do anything right now," Michonne interjected quickly, not allowing Rick to work out what he could or couldn't do in the presence of his daughter. "You're too worked up and that's not doing anybody any good. Get up—take a lap."

Rick stood up, and he did walk away—at least toward the door of the bedroom—but whether or not he would "take a lap" around the house and cool down remained to be seen. Michonne, for her part, made her way to where Judith was standing, gagging now from her efforts to continue crying and protesting, and kneeled down on one knee in front of the little girl. She picked up the dress from the floor that Rick had been trying to force Judith into and smoothed it a little.

"Jude—you have to go to school," Michonne said, aware that she was able to be much more calm in situations like this than Rick.

She loved him, and one of the things she loved about him was his _passion_ about things that moved him, but she wasn't blind to the fact that sometimes that passion simply ended up being hot-headedness and it came out, every now and again, at the worst time and place possible.

"NO!" Judith protested. Michonne cocked her eyebrow at Judith, a sign that she'd already taught the little girl meant that it wasn't play time, and Judith sucked in a breath through her runny nose. With nothing around to serve as a tissue, Michonne lifted the tail of her robe and mopped at the girl's face. "I don't want it," Judith protested. This time it was more pathetic sounding than volatile.

Michonne hummed at her.

"I know that you say you don't want to go," Michonne said. "But—I really think that you're going to have a good time. You're going to—play. And you'll learn some fun things. And you'll teach them to us tonight, if you want, while we have dinner." She sucked her teeth. "It's really going to be a lot of fun and I don't want to think you're missing out on it."

The one thing Judith hated more than anything else was _missing out_ on something, or at least feeling like she was missing out. It was one of the main reasons that bedtime was such a struggle. The entire household had taken to pretending that they were going to bed—and very convincingly sometimes—at the same time as Judith just to get her to settle down and go to sleep without the fear that something wonderful happened as soon as she closed her eyes.

"I—don't—want it," Judith said again. She shook her head at Michonne and crossed her arms over her bare chest.

Michonne held the dress up.

"Let's just put your dress on," Michonne said. "And then we can talk about it. We can decide—what you're going to do today. Because if you don't go to school? Then I guess—you're just going to have to sit here, alone, and...wait for everyone else to stop having fun."

Judith pursed her lips at Michonne. Michonne purposefully bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling. She held Judith's eyes. She wasn't going to lose this. Not against a four year old. She'd been one of the best lawyers in Atlanta once. She had a reputation for being able to hold her own against some of the most intimidating men in her field. She wasn't going to be bested by a small child.

She waved the dress in her hand in front of the little girl that she'd come to consider as much her own child as any could possibly be these days.

"Let's put your dress on," Michonne repeated, slowing her words down and putting just enough force behind them to remind Judith that her attempts to be cute wouldn't work when Michonne was determined to resist them. "Let's get dressed."

"No!" Judith repeated. "I don't want it." She shook her head forcefully. This time, though, Michonne noted that it wasn't at her. It wasn't at her at all. Judith wasn't even looking at her. She was looking directly at the garment in Michonne's hand.

" _The dress_?" Michonne asked, stressing her words. "You don't want the dress?"

Judith shook her head in response and Michonne let herself smile that time. She let herself laugh, even, because she realized that this entire war—what very well could have turned into a Daddy-Daughter World War, or at least House War—was over the fact that Judith didn't appreciate Rick's taste in clothing.

"Rick...?" Michonne asked, knowing without looking that he was lingering just outside the doorway. He hummed and she turned her eyes to him. He was leaning against the doorframe. "Did you offer Judith more than one dress or...did you just tell her that she had to wear this?"

Rick sighed. He held his hand out to Michonne like in his upturned palm she'd seem some kind of visual representation of all that the morning had held.

"I just grabbed something," Rick said. "It doesn't matter. Clothes are clothes. They're all the same."

Michonne laughed again and got herself up from her kneeling position with the most grace that she could muster. Her leg, from such an uncomfortable bend, didn't feel entirely like it was hers, so she stood for a moment and waited. She didn't want, after all, to embarrass herself by falling over her own feet. She bought herself some time by straightening and retying her robe.

"That's where you've got a lot to learn, Daddy," Michonne said. She smiled at him and then shook her head in his direction. "Clothes are never just clothes. Not when it comes to girls. Jude?" She asked, directing her attention to the pouting little girl. "What do you want to wear today?"

Judith rolled her big eyes up at Michonne. There was some doubt there. There was some suspicion that this was still some kind of trick and she'd be forced into the offending garment.

"Come on," Michonne said. "You don't want to wear the dress, you have to decide. What do you want to wear today?"

Judith hesitatingly took a step in the direction of her four drawered dresser—a dresser whose contents Michonne knew the little girl knew by heart since she loved changing her clothes as much as any girl in the old world ever had—and then she stopped. She looked at Rick, glared at him even, and then she looked back at Michonne for more assurance that she was being given the freedom of choice here. Michonne waved a hand at her.

"Go on," Michonne said. "Pick something out or I'm going to pick it out for you."

On the threat, Judith went as quickly as she could and pulled out the drawers of her dresser. She rifled through them before she came out with the rainbow leggings she loved. She found a bright green dress that was really an oversized shirt and she brought both of them over to Michonne.

"This is what you want to wear?" Michonne asked.

Judith nodded.

"What do you say?" Michonne pressed.

"Yes, please," Judith responded quietly, some residual tears still lingering on her cheeks. Rather than return to her stooped position, Michonne walked over to the rocking chair in the corner of the room and sat. She gestured and Judith jogged over and allowed her to help her get into the clothes. "I wanna have the curlies," Judith informed her, swirling her finger in the air. Michonne knew what she meant. She wanted to wear her hair curled—the way that she did some mornings when Michonne tied it up with pieces of rags the night before so that it would fall out in ringlets in the morning—but there wasn't time for that and Michonne hadn't had the foresight to tie it up the night before.

"How about I braid your hair today," Michonne said. "And then—tomorrow? You can wear your hair curly? I think...I think a braid would be really pretty today."

"She's already late," Rick pointed out.

"It's kindergarten," Michonne said. "And we know the teacher personally. I think her Ivy League education is still safe if she's a little late today. Braid?"

Judith nodded, only a little disappointed.

"That's alright," she said with a sigh.

"You'll be so pretty," Michonne assured her. "Bring me the brush. And the bands."

Judith knew exactly where they were and she trotted across her room to get them. She returned quickly and offered out to Michonne everything she'd requested. Michonne took the items from the little girl's hands and dropped them in the pocket of her robe before she patted her legs. Judith turned around and allowed Michonne to help her up onto her lap so that she could twist her hair into something that would make her feel as lovely as any little girl wanted on the first day of kindergarten.

"I was supposed to be at work a half hour ago," Rick pointed out. "So were you."

"Go," Michonne said. "And if anyone asks where I am? Tell them I'm taking Judith to school. And then? I'll be there. Just in time to clean up whatever mess they've made in my absence."

Rick laughed from where he was and straightened up his stance. By this time, Michonne had already gotten the French braid halfway down the girl's head. She'd finish it before Rick was even able to get his boots on and get out the house—and that was if he left right this very moment. He crossed the room, instead, and put his hand on Michonne's shoulder. She looked at him, pausing in her work for a moment, and offered him a smile to match the one that he gave her. He leaned down and kissed her and Michonne returned the kiss.

That was the rule. They both left, whenever they needed to, to do what needed to be done, but they never left without a kiss.

In this world, after all, you really never knew when it could be the last one. It was something you didn't want to miss out on.

Then Rick kissed Judith's forehead. She wasn't entirely sold on the rule, and she was mad about the dress, so she didn't return it. She did offer, though, an echo of the "love you" that Rick gave her.

"I love you too," Rick said to Michonne when he stood up.

"Me too," Michonne said with a smile. When she got the expression from him that she'd been seeking, she smiled more sincerely. "I love you too," she assured him.

Rick started across the bedroom again and Michonne returned to keeping her hands busy with the braid she'd been pinching during the exchange to keep it from unravelling itself. She looked up, only for a second, when Rick clicked his tongue at her from the doorway. He shook his head at her, some amusement playing on his features.

"How do you do that?" He asked.

Michonne smiled.

"You've got a lot to learn about women," Michonne responded.

"I thought I do alright," Rick said.

"There's always room for improvement," Michonne teased.


End file.
